


Don't Forget to Remember

by ginamc



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-02-16 00:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2248809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginamc/pseuds/ginamc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>McCoy said in all likelihood the memory loss was temporary. But Spock knew there was always a chance that Jim would never remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Each moment passed by even more slowly than the last as Spock waited for news of Jim’s condition. He paced the corridor, every so often glancing at the door that led to the room where Jim was unconscious. The younger man had been in a medically induced coma for the better part of two weeks following the transfusion and Spock was beginning to worry that they’d been too late.

Spock looked up at the sound of the doors swishing open. In the doorway stood a fatigued Doctor McCoy, who was rubbing his temples, presumably to soothe a headache.

“Can you sit with him for awhile?” McCoy murmured. “I’ve been fighting it for two weeks, but I’m no good to Jim like this.”

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a nurse shouting, “Doctor!”

McCoy’s eyes widened in panic and he almost collided with the doors before they could open in his haste. Spock followed quickly after him, fearing the worst. His heart raced as they hurried to Jim’s bedside. The world faded around him as he focused on his friend and dropped his mental shields, desperate for some sign that the young Human’s brain was still functioning. He looked up at the sound of his name and found McCoy standing over Jim wearing what Humans would refer to as an ear-splitting grin.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured. He then turned to Spock. “He should come out of it sometime within the next day or two. We’ll be able to get a better idea of the side effects when he does.”

Spock inclined his head. “Perhaps you should rest in the interim,” he suggested. “You appear greatly fatigued and would benefit from a meal and several hours of uninterrupted rest. As you requested, I will sit with him.”

McCoy sighed, relief clear in his features as he nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

As the Doctor strode from the room, Spock slid into the chair that the nurse had set beside Jim’s bed. The room seemed unnaturally silent, the steady beeps of the biosigns monitor loud in comparison. Doctor McCoy had suggested on more than one occasion that though Jim might not be conscious, talking to him would speed his recovery. Despite how illogical the notion seemed, Spock found himself talking to Jim, needing some sound other than that of the machines around him.

“I am pleased that you will recover, Jim,” he murmured. “A great deal has happened over the last two weeks and I desire to discuss it once you regain consciousness. I only hope that it does not cause damage to our friendship.” He paused. “I comprehend now what my older self meant when he spoke of a great friendship between us. We are connected, as though by a force beyond our understanding. If you return to consciousness, I will never again leave your side.”

The corners of Jim’s lips lifted slightly and Spock froze, thinking that he was regaining consciousness. The smile faded instantly and Spock looked down to find his hand on top of Jim’s. He blinked, not recalling having moved his hand. It was then that Spock remembered. Touch telepathy. Jim was feeling him.

He attempted to remove his hand, but Jim’s heart rate and respiration increased dangerously. So he instead grasped Jim’s hand tightly in his, the vitals returning to acceptable levels in moments. His index and pointer fingers grazed Jim’s in a shy imitation of a Vulcan kiss and the smile returned. Spock arched an eyebrow. Perhaps there was some merit to Doctor McCoy’s theory after all.

*  *  *

He had just finished his meal when he received the communication from McCoy. The Doctor was planning to begin the process of rousing Jim from his coma. Spock promptly deposited the half finished meal in the trash receptacle before proceeding at a brisk pace toward the infirmary.

By the time he arrived, Jim was asking how McCoy apprehended Khan.

“I didn’t,” McCoy offered.

The Doctor then stepped aside, allowing Spock room to approach. A weak smile crossed the young Human’s lips.

“You saved my life,” Jim murmured.

McCoy scoffed. “Uhura and I had something to do with it, too, you know.”

Spock arched an eyebrow at the comment before returning his attention to Jim and fought back the overwhelming urge to embrace his friend. “You saved my life, Captain, and the lives of the entire--”

“Spock, just--” Jim interrupted, then his features softened. “Thank you.”

A surge of emotion threatened to break through his carefully constructed control. “You are welcome, Jim.”

McCoy jammed a hypo into Jim’s neck, breaking the moment.

“Damnit!” the young Human cursed. “You’d think me almost dying on you would make you a little less hypo-happy.”

McCoy sombered, his lips tightening. “That reminds me. Don’t you ever pull that shit on me again, you little brat, or I’ll turn you over my knee and give you a spanking the likes of which you’ve never had.”

Jim grinned. “You had me worried for a minute there that somebody had replaced you with an imposter.”

Despite McCoy’s grumbling and the insults that followed, Spock saw the affection in the man’s eyes. Jealousy flared, but he tucked it away. It was a friend’s concern, no more.

“So,” Jim began. “When can I get out of here? I think I’ve had enough rest for a lifetime.”

McCoy frowned. “Jim, in case you didn’t hear me the first time, you were in a medically-induced coma for two weeks. I’m a doctor, not a miracle worker. Your body still needs time to heal. Hell, you’ll be lucky if you get anything more than ice chips and chicken broth for the next 48 hours.”

“Come on, Bones,” he groaned.

Spock paused. “Surely, he is well enough to be taken outside for several moments.”

The Doctor considered this for a moment before sighing. “All right. But he goes in a hoverchair and you stay with him. Not more than 15 minutes, you hear? And you bring him back if he starts getting tired before that.”

“Of course, Doctor,” Spock murmured, inclining his head. “If you will make the arrangements--”

Grumbling under his breath about ‘infants’ and ‘green-blooded hobgoblins’, McCoy strode toward his office to make the call. Spock returned his attention to Jim.

“Thanks,” Jim murmured.

Spock nodded. “How are you feeling?”

Jim shrugged. “Not bad considering I was dead.” He frowned when Spock tensed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

Spock relaxed slightly. “Do not concern yourself. I understand that it is common for Humans to make humorous statements regarding death termed gallows humor as a means of coping.”

“Still,” Jim murmured, grinning wryly.

The two were silent for several moments until McCoy re-entered the room. “The chair’s on its way.”

Jim attempted to sit up. “Help me out here, Spock?”

Spock gripped Jim’s offered hand in his and pulled him forward. Jim’s features creased with effort as he struggled to swing his legs over the edge. At last, his feet made contact with the floor.

“Be cautious, Jim,” Spock offered. “Move slowly.”

Nodding, Jim slid slowly from the bed and rose until he was bearing his full weight on shaky legs. Just as the young Human’s legs gave, Spock stepped in front of him to prevent his fall. Gasping for breath, Jim moved both of his hands to Spock’s shoulders.

Spock arched an eyebrow. “Take your time.”

He drew in a few more breaths before he nodded. “I’m good.”

“Jim--”

He shook his head. “I’m good.”

Gradually, Spock turned and allowed Jim to lower himself into the chair.

“That was a workout,” Jim joked, drawing in heavy breaths. “Can’t wait for physical therapy.”

Several moments later, the hoverchair arrived and Jim frowned thoughtfully. Spock offered his hand and Jim took it, forcing himself to stand once again. A slight turn and he lowered himself onto the seat. Spock then, despite Jim’s protests, covered the young man’s lower half with a blanket from his bed and sat a second folded blanket in his lap should he need it. He studied Jim’s features and noted he was already beginning to show signs of fatigue. He parted his lips to say as much, but the look in Jim’s eyes begged him not to so he remained silent. McCoy took a few moments to explain the controls and commands for the chair before excusing himself.

“Would you like to visit the facility’s gardens?” Spock offered. “I have heard they are quite aesthetically pleasing.”

Jim nodded. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

As they made their way down the corridors, Spock pondered how best to approach the situation. Dr. McCoy had urged him to be patient and not push Jim to recall too much too quickly as it might negatively impact his recovery, but Spock was eager to reconnect with his bondmate. The fact that Jim might not recall what they were to one another was a disturbing one. It was obvious that he remembered certain events leading up to his own demise, but Spock couldn’t be sure how much Jim remembered.

The doors parted in front of them and he urged his charge over the threshold and into the daylight. Dark gray clouds hovered low on the horizon, obscuring most of downtown San Francisco from view.

Spock found himself strangely grateful. He hadn’t considered what Jim’s reaction might be to the destruction, himself only just becoming accustomed to the absence of several buildings from the once-towering skyline. Diverting Jim’s attention, he guided him toward a sitting area surrounded by walls and tall flora that obstructed the view completely.

“If you wish,” Spock began. “I can arrange for a meal to be ready upon your return to your room.”

Grimacing, Jim studied his hands. “I don’t think so. I’m not really that hungry.”

“Jim,” Spock chastised. “You are still weak. It is necessary for you to take in the proper nutrients to encourage your complete recovery.”

The young human was silent for a few moments, a thoughtful frown crossing his lips. “I can’t help but feel like I’m forgetting something--something important about what happened with Khan.”

Spock’s lips tightened. “Do not strain yourself, Jim. If you are meant to retain the memories, they will return in time. If you are not, they are perhaps best forgotten.”

Jim hesitated a moment before nodding. “Maybe you’re right.” His eyes drooped slightly as he spoke.

“You are fatigued,” Spock offered. “We will return you so that you might consume nutrients and rest.”

To Spock’s surprise, Jim didn’t argue, using the controls to guide the hovercraft back indoors toward the lifts.


	2. Chapter 2

Spock couldn’t meet his Elder’s eyes, the evidence of his embarrassment flooding his cheeks. “I have failed him.” **  
**

“Do not be so hard on yourself, young one,” the older man encouraged. “Kaiidth.” **  
**

Young Spock nodded. “What is is.” **  
**

It was a phrase his mother had used often to soothe him through his childhood years. He was certain it was no coincidence his older self was using it now. **  
**

“He is well?” the Elder asked. **  
**

“Yes,” Spock murmured. “Astoundingly so. Leonard is confident that he will be able to return to his own residence under supervised care.” **  
**

A touch of a smile crossed the Elder’s lips. “Care you’ve no doubt volunteered to provide.”

Spock arched an eyebrow. “Were you not me and I not you, I would find your knowledge of my thought processes quite disconcerting.” **  
**

This earned a suppressed chuckle from the Elder. “Your humor will serve you well through this difficult time. Do not fear to share it with your bondmate. It will please him infinitely.” **  
**

“I will bear that knowledge in mind,” Spock replied with an answering curve of his lips. Offering the familiar gesture of parting, he offered, “You have been most helpful and I thank you.”

 

The Elder inclined his head, returning the gesture. “As always, you are most welcome. And do not hesitate if you are in need of me again. I am always pleased to share what insights I can. Good evening.” **  
**

Blackness replaced the Elder’s image and Spock’s brow furrowed slightly. Meditation would be the best tool to process the new information, but he found himself oddly restless so instead settled on a Human remedy: a walk to his favored coffee shop for a soothing cup of tea. **  
**

* * * **  
**

Jim was scheduled to be released from Starfleet Medical today. Spock found himself unusually eager for this event. It was a sign that Jim’s recovery was progressing well, despite the younger man’s inability to recall their bond. Yet, Jim was recalling more details of the events prior to his death each day. It was a good sign, Leonard had said, though still not enough to say for certain what memories precisely he’d retained. **  
**

“Damn it, Jim!”

 

Spock paused outside the doors that led into Jim’s room upon hearing Leonard’s often-used exclamation, usually followed by “I’m a doctor, not a--” or a particularly rude chastising regarding a behavior or action of Jim’s he found unconscionable. Pausing only a moment, Spock entered in the middle of the doctor’s rant. **  
**

“You were in a coma for two weeks and still haven’t progressed damn near well enough in your physical therapy sessions to be getting out of bed unsupervised!” **  
**

As Spock turned the corner, he noted Jim’s pout, the young captain’s trademark expression when Leonard would chastise him. Spock mentally sighed, wondering if his older self had to deal with this same petulant attitude from his Kirk. This Kirk was younger, true, but he doubted age would change Jim that drastically. **  
**

“I’ve taken care of myself for nearly 25 years without a mother,” Jim snorted. “I certainly don’t need one now. I’m a grown-ass man and I can walk to the restroom without someone holding my hand.” **  
**

Leonard scowled. “I’ve got over a dozen medical reports that tell me different. Now you plant that disobedient ass of yours in that bed and don’t you dare get out of it unless a nurse, me or Spock is here to help you.” **  
**

“Leonard is correct, Jim,” Spock offered, startling both men. **  
**

“See,” the doctor exclaimed, gesturing at Spock. “Even your Vulcan First Officer says so.” **  
**

Jim sighed, the pout not fading in the slightest. “Yes, Mothers.”

****  
Spock arched an eyebrow. “Do not tempt me, Jim.” **  
**

Leonard, temporary speechless by the Vulcan’s attempt at a joke, laughed. “Why Spock. I didn’t know you had it in you.” Clapping Spock on the shoulder in an unusual display of camaraderie, Leonard stared hard at Jim. “Remember what I said. I’ll let Spock here tie you to the bed if that’s what it takes.” Without another word, the doctor left the room and only Spock and Jim remained, both clearly catching the double meaning in Leonard’s statement. **  
**

Jim cleared his throat. “Bones said you’re taking me back to my apartment?” **  
**

Spock nodded. “And I am to be your supervision until Doctor McCoy deems you fit to care for yourself.” **  
**

“Goddamned mother hen,” Jim muttered. **  
**

* * *

Jim was even less pleased that, as a condition of his release, he was under strict doctor’s orders to use a hoverchair until he made enough progress in physical therapy to satisfy the doctor and the keys to his new hoverbike had been confiscated as well. Thus why he was currently sitting in the passenger seat of a hovercar Spock had borrowed from a colleague with his arms crossed, a pout perched on his lips. **  
**

“I can take care of myself,” he muttered. **  
**

Spock arched an eyebrow as he pulled into the parking garage of Jim’s complex. “Pouting will not speed your recovery nor will it alter Leonard’s decision. Logically, you should accept your circumstances and put your energy to use in a more productive manner.” **  
**

Jim snorted. “Like you wouldn’t try your damndest to break quarantine if you were in my position.” **  
**

“On the contrary,” Spock countered. “If the doctor’s instructions were logical--which Leonard’s protestations were--I would follow them.” **  
**

“Since when are you two friends?” Jim bit out. **  
**

Spock tensed. “My concern is for your welfare. Leonard and I are in agreement on this.” **  
**

Jim’s expression softened. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” **  
**

“Your apology is gratifying,” Spock acknowledged. “Thank you.” **  
**

A tense silence filled the air between them for several long moments before Jim broke it. “You wanna order in from The Blue Dragon? I hear they have a good selection of vegan dishes.” **  
**

Spock nodded. “That is agreeable.” **  
**

* * *

Several empty to go containers later, Spock was meditating while Jim laid on the couch in a pair of red plaid pajama bottoms fighting sleep with an old action flick playing on television. **  
**

The sudden beeping of his communicator startled Jim awake. “Kirk,” he slurred. **  
**

“Are you drinking?” **  
**

Jim rolled his eyes. “No, mother. I was asleep.” **  
**

A pause. “Oh. Where’s Spock?” **  
**

“Meditating,” Jim replied. “You need him?”

 

“No. Just checking.” **  
**

Grinning, Jim added, “Really? He’s even more of a mother hen than you.” **  
**

“There is no need for insults,” Spock called. **  
**

Jim shook his head. “Uhura still coming by tomorrow with those reports?” **  
**

Spock froze. **  
**

“Yeah,” McCoy acknowledged. “Your link gonna get fixed?” **  
**

Jim sighed. “Not until they catch the hacker. Until then, the Admiralty can’t risk sending me anything confidential.” **  
**

“All right, then. I’ll pass the message along.” As almost an afterthought, he added, “Spock might wanna make himself scarce for awhile after 1600. She’s still a bit sensitive about how he ended things a few days ago. I’ll come by to cover for him.” **  
**

Jim frowned. “They broke up?”

 

“Yeah. Didn’t Spock tell you?”

 

Glancing at Spock, he replied, “No, he didn’t.” **  
**

A pause. “Well I’ll be by at 1600 tomorrow. See you then.”

“See you then.” **  
**

Jim flipped the communicator closed, then turned to Spock, his expression hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?” **  
**

“My focus was on your welfare,” Spock offered. “I had not given it much thought.” **  
**

Jim scowled. “Bullshit. You two were together at least 15 months. Even you aren’t that cold.” **  
**

“Eighteen months,” Spock corrected. “And it is the truth.”

  
“Whatever,” Jim murmured.


	3. Chapter 3

The very last thing Spock expected that morning when going through his inbox messages was a communique from his ex-girlfriend. Entering a series of commands, he responded immediately. Her face appeared on the screen and he shifted slightly at the intensity of her stare.

“Spock,” she greeted, her expression tight.

He did his best not to allow his discomfort to show, following her lead. “Nyota.”

Her expression softened slightly. “How is he?”

“Quite well,” Spock murmured. “At the moment, he is resting.”

She paused. “Look, I’m not going to say you didn’t hurt me. But I know you well enough after three years to know that you were only trying to spare me more hurt by not dragging it on, making me think we stood a chance. Saying what you said must have been very difficult for you.”

He arched an eyebrow. “It was. Much like Humans, Vulcans can be rather cruel regarding same gender relationships. It goes against logic and those involved are often treated as outcasts.”

She grinned wryly. “Nothing new for you with the outcast thing, I guess.”

“I do care very deeply for you, Nyota,” he offered. “Thus my extreme hesitation in hurting you. Despite the loss of you as my ashalveh, I do not wish to lose your friendship. It is most dear to me and I would be most aggrieved to be without it.”

She smiled. “Oh, Spock. You’ve always had my friendship. That never changed.”

He relaxed visibly, relief twinkling in his gaze. “I thank you for that and am fortunate to count you among my friends.”

“Tell Jim ‘hi’ for me,” she concluded.

He nodded. “I will do so.” He offered the familiar hand gesture. “Until we next see one another.”

She returned the gesture, her grin widening. “Until then.”

And then the screen went blank, leaving Spock to contemplate the exchange.

* * *

Spock didn’t know what snapped him from his meditation first—Jim’s sudden panic through the bond or his shout of Spock’s name. Either way, he was bursting into Jim’s sleeping quarters before Jim finished yelling. His bondmate sat upright in bed gasping for breath.

“Jim, what has occurred?” he murmured, striding toward the bed.

Jim shook his head. “Just a nightmare,” he breathed. “I’m fine.”

Spock wanted to press him for details, but feared this would only upset his bondmate further. “May I assist you in some way?”

“No, I’m good. But thanks.” He paused. “Hey, why don’t we grab some breakfast? I’ve been cooped up long enough and there’s this nice cafe nearby. They serve vegan stuff, too.”

“If that is your wish,” Spock agreed, inclining his head. “If I retrieve your clothing, will you need assistance dressing?”

Jim blushed. “No, I—um—I think I can handle it.”

Spock selected a random pair of jeans and a red, white and black plaid long sleeve button up along with a pair of underwear from the drawer and closet, then laid them before Jim.

“Thanks,” he breathed, then allowing Spock to help him stand.

Spock turned his back to give Jim some modicum of privacy, all the while remaining close by if he needed help. Despite Jim’s shaky balance, he managed to get the underwear and jeans on without falling over.

“I will retrieve your hoverchair,” Spock murmured.

Jim groaned. “Can’t I just use crutches or something?”

“The Doctor notified me that your sense of balance has not yet returned to his satisfaction,” Spock offered matter of factly. “But perhaps soon you will be able to do so.”

Sighing in frustration, Jim slid back onto the bed while Spock retrieved the chair, grimacing at the sight of the clunky object the moment it entered the room. Sensing his bondmate’s anxiety, Spock puzzled over the cause, uncertain of how to soothe it.

As though reading his thoughts, Jim replied, “I’m going to get more attention in that thing than if I just used the crutches.”

Spock arched an eyebrow. “Perhaps a hat and a pair of dark glasses will divert attention.”

Jim grinned. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He paused. “Hand me that gray hat with the black band around the rim?”

A few minutes later, hat and glasses on, Jim seated in the hoverchair, the two set out for the building’s elevator.

* * *

Admittedly, Jim had been correct. The cafe he’d spoken of was quiet and fairly out of the way, meaning that they weren’t as likely to be bothered by the reporters that had been practically breaking down doors at Starfleet Headquarters for information. Despite the Admiralty’s “no comment” stance, the reporters grew more persistent each day--now to the point of harassing any members of the Enterprise crew they could track down and corner.

Spock himself had been the recipient of such treatment several times over the last couple of days when reporting to briefings (Jim, of course, left in the capable hands of Doctor McCoy) and the idea of Jim being harassed in such a way had him fighting to keep his composure.

“You okay?”

Jim’s question snapped him from his thoughts and he arched an eyebrow. “I am fine.”

Jim frowned. “Okay, what’s wrong?”

“To what are you referring?” Spock murmured coyly. “I have stated that I am fine.”

“Yeah,” Jim snorted. “You did. But you hate that word. You only use it when something’s bothering you, so spill.”

He opened his mouth to question the euphemism, but a glare from Jim cut him off. His gaze dropped to his meal. “The media has been rather persistent regarding the Vengeance incident and I fear you will be exposed to the level of harassment Starfleet Headquarters has had to endure. The thought is most displeasing to me.”

He grinned. “It’s sweet of you to worry, but it’s not like I haven’t faced the media storm before. If and when I do get cornered, I’ll tell them in a very diplomatic way to fuck off.”

Spock arched an eyebrow, amusement clear in the way the corners of his lips tilted upward just slightly. “I presume with more tact than that, Captain.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “We’re off duty, damn it. Call me Jim.”

Spock nodded. “Jim.” He paused. “What were your intentions for entertainment this evening?”

“Hadn’t really thought that far ahead,” Jim admitted with a shrug. “Maybe see what Bones, Sulu, Chekov and Scotty are doing and us guys can grab dinner and drinks or something.”

He arched an eyebrow. “If you are not inviting Nyota in an attempt to spare my feelings, while your concern is appreciated, it is unnecessary. I have since spoken to Nyota and we have agreed to maintain our friendship.”

“That’s good, right?” Jim murmured. “You two make a good team and I’d hate to lose one or both of you because of a break-up.”

“I assure you, Cap—Jim, Nyota and myself are professionals. We will not allow the ending our romantic relationship to interfere with our duties.”

Jim chuckled. “Of course. You call her then? I’ll call the guys and we’ll see who we can pull together. It’s kinda last minute, but I’m pretty sure at least Bones and Scotty won’t have a problem. Bones is on a week’s mandatory leave, courtesy of Admirals Barnett and Archer, and Scotty never turns down a drink.”

Several moments later, they had their responses.

Jim beamed. “The guys are all in. What about Uhura?”

Spock nodded. “She has agreed, mostly as an excuse to see your status for herself.”

He snorted. “Didn’t know she cared.”

“She was quite distraught following your death,” he murmured. “The entire crew was quite emotional.”

A heavy silence hung between them for several moments.

“Really?” Jim whispered.

“Yes,” Spock admitted. “Several had begun planning something called a wake in your honor before Doctor McCoy formulated the strategy of using Khan’s blood to revive you.”

Tears filled Jim’s eyes, threatening to spill over. “Some Humans prefer to hold a wake instead of a funeral. Instead of just mourning the person’s loss, a wake celebrates their life,” he rasped, running a hand through his hair. “Wow. I didn’t realize—”

“You are greatly cared for,” Spock offered. “It is not only the senior bridge crew who count you among their friends.”

Jim laughed humorlessly. “Certainly puts things in perspective.”

A pause and Spock said, “We should return to your residence to prepare for dinner. Your medical restrictions will lengthen the process of you showering and dressing.”

Jim blushed. “I suppose since I’m not supposed to be standing by myself I’ll need some help with the former.”

“I purchased a unique stool while you were still hospitalized on which you can sit while you clean yourself,” Spock countered. “Unless you wish me to assist you?”

Jim’s blush deepened. “I—no, the stool will do fine, thanks.”

Spock and Jim paid for their portions of the bill and moved toward the exit, but not before Jim left a very generous tip on the table for their waitress.


	4. Chapter 4

The group settled on a new club for their impromptu drinking party called the Venus Temple Lounge. By the time Jim and Spock arrived, everyone else was waiting with drinks in hand. Thankfully, McCoy had conceded that a hoverchair in a nightclub was impractical and had agreed that Jim could use electromagnetic leg braces instead. The men shook Jim’s hand in turn. Uhura rose from her seat and, to Jim’s surprise, hugged him and kissed his cheek.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, her voice raised to be heard over the music.

He smiled. “Better. Thanks.”

Uhura retook her seat and Jim moved to sit next to McCoy, grasping Spock’s hand as he slowly lowered himself down. After shifting slightly to get comfortable, he patted the remaining bench space beside him and, arching an eyebrow, Spock sat down beside him.

At that moment, the waitress appeared. By the look of her, she was Deltan.

“Perfect timing,” Jim shouted with a grin. “A bottle of Aldebaran whiskey and a round of drinks for my friends.”

The waitress smirked. “Sure. Did you want to open a tab?” He nodded and offered his ID chip for her to scan. She then entered his order into the PADD. “We’ll have that right out for you, Mr. Kirk.”

“Jim will do fine,” he insisted, grinning.

Her smirk widened. “Jim. I’ll remember that.”

He chuckled. “I’m sure you will.”

The waitress left reluctantly to put his order in at the bar and Jim didn’t even try to hide his interest as he watched the sway of her hips until she disappeared from sight. Beside him, Spock tensed and opened his mouth to protest, but a pointed look from McCoy silenced him.

“Spock!” Jim protested, noticing Spock’s sudden sullenness. “You’re supposed to be having fun. Loosen up a little.”

At the touch of Jim’s hand on his shoulder, he stood abruptly. “I am in need of the facilities. I will return promptly.”

Without waiting for anyone’s reply, he strode quickly toward the nightclub’s restrooms.

Jim frowned as he watched him go, then turned to McCoy. “What’s going on with him lately? One minute, he’s practically mother hening me to death and the next minute, it’s like he can’t get far enough away from me.”

“Hell if I know,” McCoy grumbled, his gaze not meeting Jim’s.

After another glass of whiskey, Jim shrugged. “Hey, Uhura! You wanna dance?”

She smiled. “Sure. Why not?”

She helped Jim stand and the two made their way toward the dance floor, McCoy watching with an apprehensive expression.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Sulu frowned. “Spock’s already in a bad mood. I don’t think seeing Jim dancing with his ex will help that.”

McCoy scowled. “I’m not getting in the middle of this. For once, those two can work things out for themselves. It’s not like Spock’s liable to commit murder.”

Sulu’s brow furrowed as he watched Jim and Nyota’s movements start to lean toward sexual. “I’m not so sure.”

Tossing back the remainder of his whiskey, McCoy replied, “Then you clearly don’t know Spock very well.”

*  *  *

“Spock never did tell me why you two broke up,” Jim shouted over the music, his hand at her waist as she ground her hips against his.

Her lips tightened. “I’m not surprised. No one else knows either except Len.”

Jim smirked. “Len, huh? Since when?”

She blushed, thankful that the darkness hid it. Clearing her throat, she continued, her voice a low murmur, “We were both drunk, lonely and worried about you. On top of that, Spock had just broken up with me and Len’s ex was being a bitch about him spending time with Joanna. It just kind of happened.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “You and Bones—”

Grinning sheepishly, she nodded. “Yeah.”

“More than once?”

She glared at him. “We’re dating if that’s what you mean.”

Jim was gobsmacked. “Well, hell. Congratulations.”

“Glad you approve,” she snorted.

He paused. “Seriously, though. Take it easy on him. He’s been through hell with Jocelyn.”

She sombered. “Yeah. I know how that feels.”

He hugged her tightly. “If anybody can pull through this shit, it’s you.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by a tight grip on her arm. She turned to give whoever the asshole was a piece of her mind, but the words died on her lips as she came face to face with Spock.

“Spock, I—”

At a loss for words, her gaze dropped from his. His hand on her arm meant his thoughts came through loud and clear. The dancing had been purely innocent, but she knew, Spock being half-Vulcan, wouldn’t see it that way. She’d touched what was his, even if Jim wasn’t aware of their bond.

“Spock,” she began. “Please let go. You’re hurting my arm.”

The anger in his gaze faded and his features softened as he released her.

“I apologize. I shouldn’t have—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, instead hurrying toward the club’s front doors and exiting through them.

“What the hell was that?” Jim demanded.

Nyota just shook her head and moved back toward the booth. Jim’s gaze then went to the doors Spock had just left through. His lips a thin line, he strode across the club and left the building to confront him.


	5. Chapter 5

 

Jim found Spock easily enough sitting in the vehicle he’d borrowed. He walked up to the vehicle and slid in on the passenger side. Startled, Spock looked as though he might attack him.

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Shit, Spock! It’s me!”

Spock stiffened, his expression unreadable as his gaze returned to the front display. The two sat for several long moments in silence. Tension hung in the air between them as Jim ran through different ways to confront him about his actions in the club.

When he’d at last gathered his courage and opened his mouth to begin that awkward conversation, he heard a click and turned to see Spock get out of the vehicle. Jim exited the car, too, following him.

Spock stopped and turned. “Will you not desist in echoing my movements when it is clear I don’t wish to be in your company at this time?”

Jim scowled. “Not until you tell me what the hell that was about in there,” he demanded, motioning toward the nightclub. “You’ve never treated her that way. Hell, I have half a mind to deck you on principle. No man should EVER treat a woman that way, ex-girlfriend or not. What the hell’s going on with you lately?” When Spock didn’t answer, Jim continued. “Fine. Don’t talk to me about it. But whatever the hell your problem is, you’d better get over it right now because I won’t allow that kind of behavior. Is that understood?”

“Are you speaking as my Captain or as my friend?” Spock bit out.

Jim snorted. “You’re splitting hairs. On duty or not, you don’t treat anyone the way you just treated Uhura.”

“It’s not your concern,” Spock returned coolly.

Tensing, Jim retorted, “The hell it isn't! You’re my best friend, Spock, but I have no problem telling you when you’re wrong and you've crossed the line. If you EVER touch her like that again, I’ll personally knock you on your ass. Understood?”

They stood face to face, their bodies millimeters apart, much like they had on the bridge that day. Their gazes were narrowed in challenge.

Spock’s gaze dropped from his.

“Am I understood?” Kirk barked.

His gaze flickering to some object dead ahead of him, Spock stood ramrod straight. “Yes, sir,” he snapped.

“Good.”

Without another word, Jim strode toward the other side of the parking lot and stepped onto the sidewalk. Where he was going, even he didn't know.

*  *  *

McCoy cursed. “You were supposed to be keeping an eye on him.”

Spock arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware that included soothing him following one of his inevitable Human outbursts.”

“Do you even really give a damn?” McCoy spat. “Or is this Vulcan bond thingy more about possession than love? Because in Human relationships, we go after someone who’s been brought back from the brink and in a coma for two weeks. He hasn’t even been out of the hospital two days, Spock! Something could still happen!”

“Despite what Humans might believe,” he ground out. “Vulcans feel. We simply choose not to allow those emotions to override logic.”

McCoy snorted. “So your feelings for him only go so far? Yeah, you’re a real winner.” He paused. “Ah, hell. Forget it. I’ll go after him myself. He needs someone to give a damn over what harm he comes to.”

As McCoy moved to leave, Spock grabbed his arm. “You’ve seen the result of crossing that boundary once before. Do not ever question my love for Jim.”

“Then why don’t you put away your damned pride for awhile,” McCoy sneered. “And go after him?”

Spock’s expression softened. “You are correct, Leonard,” he murmured. “I have acted most illogically. Forgive me.”

The scowl slid from McCoy’s face and he sighed. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.”

Spock nodded, then turning to Nyota. “First, I offer my apologies to you, Nyota, for my unnecessary aggressiveness. I’m aggrieved to have caused you harm.”

“Kah-li punar-tor,” she replied.

Spock brushed his lips over her forehead. “Th’i-oxalra.”

She smiled. “Kwon-sum, Spock. Kwon-sum.”

*  *  *

It was easy enough for Spock to trace Jim’s communicator signal and it came as no surprise to find him at one of his preferred drinking establishments. He was leaned over the bar, his expression contemplative. Spock paused, studying him for a moment. This was Jim Kirk exposed and it was endlessly fascinating.

In the hunch of his shoulders, Spock could see the brutal past the young Captain carried with him each day. Though he was certain he didn't know everything Jim had endured, he knew enough. The loss of his father before he could know him, an emotionally absent mother, a series of abusive stepfathers and a particularly abusive ex-boyfriend would have been enough to break Spock.

But on top of all of that tragedy, Jim had survived the horror that was Tarsus IV. Spock had been shocked when an intoxicated Jim had told him one night about some of the things he’d endured on that famine-stricken planet. He’d been a mere child by Earth standards, forced to face things that would have broken an adult male. The emptiness in Jim’s eyes as he’d spoken had shaken Spock to the core. No amount of meditation could completely drive away the nausea or the imagery his mind seemed determined to conjure at the mere memory of Jim’s words.

“Bones ordered you to drag my ass back, I assume,” Jim murmured.

Spock closed the distance between them easily, hesitating a moment before laying a hand on Jim’s shoulder in unspoken apology. “Given that you are only two days’ out of a medical facility, I was concerned that something might occur. I do not wish you to come to harm due to my illogical actions.”

The corners of Jim’s mouth lifted in a wane smile. “Glad to know you care.” He tossed back the remainder of the whiskey and motioned to the bartender for another. “Sit. Have a drink with me.”

Spock paused, then slid into the chair next to him. When the bartender brought Jim his drink, Spock requested a White Russian before returning his attention to Jim. A few moments later, the glass was set in front of him. He lifted the drink to his lips and sampled it before nodding in satisfaction, then taking another.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you as a vodka drinker,” Jim teased.

Spock arched an eyebrow. “I normally am not. But the flavor combination is pleasant.”

Jim shook his head. “Bones has forbidden me to drink vodka--or tequila, for that matter. It doesn’t take much of either before I’m doing some seriously stupid shit--like trying to climb brick walls kind of stupid. And tequila hangovers just flat out blow.”

“I consumed tequila on one occasion,” Spock murmured, a slight green flush filling his cheeks. “Nyota is rather fond of a cocktail she referred to as a tequila sunrise. It is the one non-chocolate liquor my physiology seems unable to tolerate. I awoke feeling rather nauseated and was required to request a day’s leave from my post due to illness. Captain Pike expressed great mirth when I relayed the anecdote.”

Jim chuckled. “I’m sure. Wish I could have seen that.” He clapped Spock on the shoulder. “Finish up. Last call and all that.”


	6. Chapter 6

As he slowly returned to consciousness, the first thing that hit him was the familiar, yet exotic combination of copper-tinged sweat, mahogany and sandalwood invading his nostrils. 

His eyes snapped open and he sucked in a panicked breath. He struggled to remember how he’d ended up in the same bed as Spock much less spooned against him. The nightmare came back to him with startling clarity, followed by the memory of seeking comfort from Spock in the middle of the night only to fall asleep in the half-Vulcan’s embrace. 

The second was the hot, bare skin beneath his hands. Jim’s cheeks flushed, recalling vaguely seeking the warmth of Spock’s body as a chill stole through the room, his single thin sheet not enough to protect him from it. It was at that moment that a third detail wormed its way to the front of his mind: he had a hard-on the consistency of steel that was, with only the barrier of his thin boxers, pressing insistently against Spock’s ass.

Jumping back as though burned, he scrambled from the bed and stumbled toward the bathroom, nearly slamming the door in his hurry. Shaken, he leaned against the sink and drew in deep, slow breaths. The feelings had been simmering beneath the surface for months now. He’d given up trying to deny it. He was attracted to his First Officer and what was more, it was increasingly likely that he was in love with him. 

He pressed a couple of buttons on the panel above the sink and cold water began to flow from the tap. Cupping his hands, he splashed a couple scoops of water onto his face, gasping in surprise at the coolness. His eyes lifted and locked with those of his reflection.

He was so focused on the stubble beginning to make its appearance along his jawline that he failed to hear the swoosh of the door opening and the footsteps of someone moving to stand beside him until Spock’s face appeared in the mirror. Jim jumped in surprise, causing his feet to lose traction on the slick tile floor. If it hadn’t been for Spock’s sudden grasp on his arm, the head-first collision with the side of the sink would likely have knocked him out cold.

“Thanks,” he breathed.

Spock didn’t reply and the two stared at one another for several long moments. Jim’s gaze dropped to Spock’s lips as he licked his own. Thoughts of what it would be like to kiss those lips flickered across his mind’s eye. 

He stared, unmoving.

“Jim,” Spock rasped.

The young captain shivered. The way he’d said his name...No, he couldn’t dare hope that it meant what he thought it meant...could he?

Taller than Jim by a couple of inches, Spock lowered his head slightly as he closed the distance between them, stopping millimeters shy, his hot breath caressing Jim’s lips like an Indian summer wind.

“Th’y’la, vokau tor tu?”

Before Jim could comprehend what was happening, Spock’s lips were brushing against his. He sucked in a sharp breath, his gaze locking with Spock’s as he cradled Spock’s face in his hands and brought their mouths together. To his surprise, Spock returned the kiss with equal fervor and words that weren’t Jim’s own echoed in his head.

Missed you, Th’y’la...thought we would never be together in this way again...so pleased that you have returned to me...More excruciating than your death…

Jim jerked back, gasping for breath as he scrubbed his face with his hands as he attempted to make sense of what had just happened. Spock had kissed him. Spock had kissed him. But why? Could that mean--? He froze. Was Spock in love with him? What was that he’d said? Something about again. Had something happened between them before he’d died? He grunted in frustration. Why couldn’t he remember? 

Then he felt it. There was something in the back of his mind that he couldn’t recall being there before. Why hadn’t he noticed it? As he looked closer, what he found astounded him. Memories came rushing forward as the strange light grew brighter, a kaleidoscope of color. 

Him kissing Spock. Spock holding him as he cried, Pike’s name on his lips, whispering soothing words as he brushed the tears away. Showers together. Their first time together. Meals and chess matches. Sparing sessions interspaced with more love-making.

“Spock?” he breathed.

Spock reached out hesitantly, laying a hand on Jim’s cheek. “You remember.”

Jim nodded, his hand squeezing Spock’s. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Doctor McCoy feared it would harm your recovery,” he murmured. “Oh, my Jim. How it pleases me that you have returned to me. I feared you would never recall.”

“It’s still only bits and pieces.”

The corners of Spock’s lips turned up slightly. “Take your time, th’y’la. As much as you need.”

* * *

Jim sat silently, half-drunk as he nursed his third glass of bourbon. “Man, I’ve become a light-weight,” he slurred. “I remember when three glasses used to barely get me buzzed.”

“Guess that’s what forced sobriety will do for you,” McCoy quipped, pouring himself another glass.

Jim frowned. “Why forced?”

McCoy arched an eyebrow. “You don’t remember? You nearly drank yourself into a coma after you lost Enterprise. If Pike hadn’t found your sorry ass in the bar that night, you’d have been well on your way to doing it again.”

At the mention of Pike, Jim tensed, tossing back the remainder of the bourbon in his glass, then holding his glass out for more.

“Slow down, Jimmy,” McCoy muttered. 

Glaring at McCoy, Jim replied, “I’ll slow down when I wanna slow down.”

McCoy sighed in defeat, pouring him another glass. “This is the last one. I’m already gonna have to practically carry your ass home.”

Jim smirked. “Not if Spock beats you to it.”

McCoy froze. “Well, I’ll be damned. The green-blooded bastard told you.”

“Nope,” Jim countered. “I ‘membered all by myself.”

Snorting, McCoy swallowed a gulp of bourbon. “Figures. Not even death can keep you two apart.”

Jim sombered, staring at his glass. “So you knew?” McCoy nodded. “Why didn’t you let him tell me when I woke up?”

“As I’m sure your boyfriend explained to you, I didn’t want you to have an aneurysm so soon after we got you back.”

A crooked grin slid across Jim’s lips. “I never thought it would happen. Been in love with him since he crashed into my life.”

“Helluva thing,” McCoy chuckled. “You and him. Don’t think I’ve ever seen him so…well, Human. He damn near lost it when you died. He had his hands around Khan’s throat and was seconds away from ending the bastard when Uhura showed up. The way she tells it, he scared the shit out of her with the look in his eyes.”

“This whole thing scares the shit out of me,” Jim murmured. “I’ve never felt like this—about anyone.”

A grin played at the corners of McCoy’s lips. “’Bout damned time if you ask me. You two have been dancing around each other since day one.”

Jim paused. “I was thinking of taking him with me to visit Mom.”

“Damn, Jimmy, that’s big. You never take anyone home.”

“Except you.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “I hardly count for anything. I’m your best friend. I meant significant others.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” Jim grinned. “It’s funny. I thought I’d be more nervous about this.”

Shrugging, McCoy replied, “Sometimes things just feel right.”

“Like you and Uhura?”

McCoy grinned sheepishly. “So she told you?” Jim nodded and McCoy sighed. “Yeah, like me and her. It wasn’t something that we planned for, but once we started it felt to right to stop. Never thought I’d wanna open myself up again like that after Jocelyn.”

“You love her,” Jim teased.

McCoy hesitated. “You know, I think I do.”

“Does she know?”

“Nope,” he slurred. “And I’d rather keep it that way for now if you don’t mind. Not sure how I feel yet and no sense hurtin’ her if I don’t. She’s been through enough with the crap with Spock.”

Shaking his head, Jim downed the rest of his bourbon. “So much for bachelors for life.”

McCoy chuckled. “Yeah. What a pair we make, huh?”

“Here’s to the ones who love us for who we are,” Jim murmured, raising his glass.

McCoy tapped their glasses together with a gentle ‘clink’. “Crazy as they are for it.”

Jim grinned. “Good luck to ‘em both.”

“Speaking of,” McCoy offered, glancing at the chronometer. “I should get some shuteye. Big day tomorrow.”

“More debriefings?”

McCoy grimaced. “Yeah.” He motioned toward the second bedroom. “Spare sheets are all laid out. Don’t want you to even think about riding that bike of yours as drunk as y’are.”

“Thanks for the offer,” Jim began. “But I didn’t ride my bike and I already made arrangements for Spock to come get me.” The sudden chirp of his communicator caught his attention. He flipped it open and depressed the button. “I’m done. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“He’s been waiting down there all this time?” McCoy snorted.

Jim shrugged. “Only the last few minutes. I kinda figured you wouldn’t last too much longer, old man, so I had him on standby.”

“Old man, hell,” McCoy grumbled. “I can still drink your alcoholic ass under the table.”

Chuckling, Jim shot back, “And that’s supposed to impress me?” He tossed back the remainder of the bourbon and clumsily slammed the glass on the table. “Better go while I can still stand.”

As Jim made to get up, however, he stumbled and nearly ended up falling face first into the table. McCoy hauled him to standing position with a tight grasp on his arm. 

“Right about now, kid, I don’t think you can sit straight much less ascend a few flights of stairs.”

“That’s what lifts are for,” Jim protested.

McCoy rolled his eyes. “The only problem with lifts is that you have to be able to stand straight. You’re not quite sober enough for that. I’ll carry your ass to your boyfriend’s car, but you two are on your own after that.”


End file.
